


Afterglow

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi is prepared for a lazy night of watching TV with his boyfriend. His boyfriend has other ideas. </p><p>Very good ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 30 Day NSFW Challenge: Day 15 - Sweet and Passionate. The pairing was requested by sawamurachans.

The only light in the room is the soft glow of the television neither of them is watching, with Akaashi reclined on the sofa and Kenma eased between his legs and burrowed into his chest.

Kenma groans. “This movie is terrible, Keiji.”

“I know,” Akaashi says. “But there’s nothing else on.”

“Then turn it off,” Kenma replies as he reaches for his phone on the end table. “You’re not watching it, either.”

“Not really.” Akaashi yawns and draws Kenma closer, resting his chin on the crown of Kenma’s head. “I just like the light.”

Humming in agreement, Kenma says, “Okay.” He plays some mindless game on his phone, the one Akaashi recognizes from times when Kenma is having difficulty relaxing.

“Is everything okay?” Akaashi asks, looking past Kenma’s hair to watch deft fingers flying through a Sudoku puzzle.

Kenma turns around to meet Akaashi’s concerned gaze but quickly turns away when his cheeks start turning pink. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Akaashi chuckles into Kenma’s hair. “You know, when you say that, I worry on reflex.”

But Kenma merely shrugs and plows through his game, and Akaashi mutes the TV so he can mindlessly flip through channels without bothering Kenma. He settles on some documentary about polar bears and absorbs the imagery without even trying to grasp it.

He’s surprised when Kenma turns around in his lap and licks at the hollow of his neck. “Mmm.” Akaashi lolls his head back to make more room for Kenma to work. “Is that what you’re all wound up about?”

Against the pulse at Akaashi’s throat, Kenma murmurs, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

There are a hundred lectures that spring to Akaashi’s mind about their relationship and boundaries and everything in between, but he doesn’t say any of them because he knows Kenma knows. He is aware that he and Kenma are not cut from the same cloth, and their relationship is working just fine. And his parents are away for the weekend, so no one is going to intrude on anything they might want to do.

So with a lazy smile, Akaashi tugs Kenma further up his chest and says against his lips, “I’m glad you invited me.”

Akaashi reels when Kenma hungrily kisses him. A year ago, if someone would have told him that Kozume Kenma was warm and passionate and could flatten someone’s resolve with just a kiss, Akaashi would not have believed it for a second. But a series of events he can’t even believe happened, and now he knows.

Kenma is not cold, has never been cold. When you know where to look, one can easily see that he burns hot and bright just beneath his disinterested surface. Underneath the anxiety and the shyness, there is the gift Kenma only gives to the precious few who have earned the right to see it.

Thighs clench around Akaashi’s hips, and he can feel Kenma’s arousal against his, and Akaashi gasps. His own desire is starting to pool low in his abdomen, but he and Kenma have not gone farther than a little bit of heated petting and he needs to know where they stand.

After a searing kiss, Akaashi frames Kenma’s face in his hands and asks, “What would you like to do?”

Kenma blushes and averts his eyes, but after he chews on his bottom lip for a while, he looks back up and says, “I want to see you, and I want you to see me.”

Akaashi smiles and closes his eyes, basking in the glow before brushing his lips against Kenma’s. “I’d love to.”

Slowly, carefully, they take turns peeling each other out of their clothing. Akaashi appreciates everything about the scene — from the smooth expanses of creamy flesh with no particular muscle definition but soft in all the right places, to the way Kenma hungrily observes Akaashi’s harder, more athletic physique. They aren’t a match at all on the outside, but when they look at each other when everything is piled on the floor, Akaashi knows they are well matched because he can’t imagine sitting here with anyone else.

Akaashi struggles to find something to say, but Kenma takes care of that. Kenma pushes him back on the couch and trails his lips down the breadth of Akaashi’s chest. Fingertips played melodies over his ribs, and Akaashi couldn’t help but groan at the ceiling.

When he finally chances a glance down, he sees Kenma smirking as he closes a hand around Akaashi’s aching cock. “Touch me, Keiji.”

He has no idea what he’s doing; Akaashi figures neither of them do. But he runs his hands over every spot he wishes Kenma would touch and drinks in the breathy moans his amateur successes earn. However, it isn’t enough for this coiled power burgeoning low in his belly.

Sitting up, Akaashi tugs Kenma more tightly in his lap until their lengths are brushing together. They search each other’s eyes, and the slightest nod from Kenma makes Akaashi’s heart explode.

Akaashi doesn’t want to _put_ himself anywhere; he knows neither of them are ready for that yet. However, the condom in his wallet that his older brother had insisted he carry has given Akaashi an idea. “Kenma, can I try something out?”

Kenma nods, and Akaashi can tell by his shallow, uneven breaths that they are both in a similar state of need. With that in mind, he reaches down into his piled clothing and fishes his wallet and its important cargo out of his trouser pocket. Kenma’s eyes go wide at the sight, but he allows Akaashi to continue.

He peels open the foil wrapper and pulls out the condom. It’s bright red, and the color makes Akaashi chuckle to himself before he unfurls it over Kenma’s cock. Once it’s secure, he squeezes out any extra lubrication from the packet onto his already sticky hand and uses it to slicken his own length. That same hand closes around both of them, and Akaashi looks up at Kenma as he experimentally rolls his hips.

White-hot pleasure radiates from his groin, and Akaashi growls when Kenma reciprocates the action. For a few minutes, they struggle to match each other’s rhythm until Kenma pushes Akaashi back onto the couch.

“Let me,” he says softly as he wraps his hands around Akaashi’s, adding more pressure to their joined cocks.

One after another, Kenma thrusts into their hands, jaw clenched as he huffs ragged breaths from his nose. Akaashi can’t even concentrate as spots of color parade across his vision. This is nothing like getting himself off. There is that closeness, the feel of flesh against his own, that air of desire; no quick hand job before bedtime could ever compare to the sight of Kenma losing his composure over him.

Feeling his own release closing in, Akaashi meets every one of Kenma’s movements, and soon, their hips are stuttering against each other’s, and Akaashi spills himself onto his own chest. They continue to pump their hands until Akaashi is milked dry, and Kenma fills the condom with his own satiation.

After Akaashi wipes himself off with his T-shirt, they burrow against each other, with Kenma’s back nestled against his chest as they watch bad television together.

“At least the movie’s over,” Kenma remarks, as if they aren’t still naked and doused in the afterglow.

Akaashi kisses Kenma’s temple and hands his boyfriend, his first, the remote. “Yeah. Knock yourself out.”


End file.
